


Everything for You

by Pita Pan (Lizlow)



Category: 7'Scarlet (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizlow/pseuds/Pita%20Pan
Summary: There’s a sweet scent in the air, perhaps it’s them communicating with him, whispering again to him a secret that only he may know.She is yet another flower, but somehow, he's become compelled to consider her special, even if he doesn't understand why. Yes, he wants her to live with a smile on her face. He'll do want he can to make sure her stem isn't cut, that she can survive to the very end of her life span. That beautiful curse doesn't mean her fate is sealed to be fuel for another.From now on, everything is for her.





	Everything for You

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS... like this is the walking spoiler, anyway, I actually really enjoyed 7'sCarlet; there's a lot of room in potential that wasn't quite hit, but the cast was really fun, and oh man... this (popularity poll comment voice) ikemen oniichan really hit a spot with people, my friend included. Thanks for the emotions, 7'sCarlet.

He takes a moment to stare up at the overcast sky, the dark clouds showering down their summer tears. It’s all grey, regardless, but there is something that draws him to it. How many are there this year? How are the flowers? There’s a sweet scent in the air, perhaps it’s them communicating with him, whispering again to him a secret that only he may know.

But, he’s having fun here, as an older brother, for this small, pure light that even he can see, a lantern in the darkness, the ambrosia... no,  _Ichiko..._

The silence is his solidarity, but it’s not really quiet with her laughter filling that household air. He doesn’t mind it though. It’s less lonely, and hearing her like this, tells him she’s safe.

But soon, even that leaves him, distilling the moment, unsettling him. For once, even if she’s aged while he hasn’t changed at all, he feels like he’s lead a normal life, for once, in this eternal life of his.

“Oniichan?” Her voice cracks through his head and blooms, “You’ll catch a cold..!”

He hears her rush out of the house, not even bothering to close the door behind her, and his vision grows dark quickly as she tosses a towel over him, as if it’ll suddenly dry him off. But that’s just how she is, and he imagines if he turns around and lifts it up enough, he’ll see what’s likely a worried pout dissipate into a relieved smile.

And he’ll be reminded of how  _glad_ he is that he met her.

His assumptions are proven correct as he rubs his head, an act she cannot reach, and faces her, seeing her wide, purple eyes staring up at him, and her expressions change just so.

“Yes, yes, I’m really sorry for worrying you, Ichiko,” Hanate gently smiles down at her, thankful that she can be herself.

“Mmmm! I was really worried! Now, let’s hurry inside and get you dried off!” She tugs at his hand, and he allows himself to be pulled along.

“You ran out here without thinking about yourself, huh? You’re soaked now, too.”

“Oh! Ahaha, whoops!” Her smile is bright, innocent, truly he would have regretted sitting back and letting her life get snuffed out in exchange for the eternity of another.

Her life is worth so much more.

But why? He asked the flowers, but they, despite their oneness, only told him who she was. Was it they, they who tempted him to take her away from there? Or was it something more?

Everything about her, before and after, his thoughts linger upon the town that he had been in for so long, the one that had been his home, but a danger to her. The place that brought them together, but could have torn her apart from everyone else. He dropped the life he knew, the one he changed up often anyway, to separate from what he knew.

He knew he’d figure it all out.

“And you say I space out!”

“You do, Ichiko. Nearly running into a door just yesterday when you were walking ahead with Hino seems like it qualifies as spacing out. What am I going to do with you?”

“Hehe, guess it runs in the family!"

Really,  _really_ , he’s a fool.

\---

She slides a strawberry tart onto his plate, grabbing the lemon one he had original picked up, smiling at him all the while, thankful that he allows her to so selfishly switch sweets with her. He really understands her!

“Thank you, Oniichan! I really don’t remember why I don’t like strawberries, but I didn’t want to tell her no on those specifically...”

“I know. It’s really kind of you.”

“Well, you’re always really nice to people too, so I want to do my best.”

The taste of these tarts makes no difference to him; it’s all sadly bland, but the pleasure  _she_ takes in biting into one she can stomach and enjoy, that’s real.

A neighbor had brought them earlier that day, because she simply had made too many, and what better a neighborly gesture than to share them with the kind youngsters next door.

Thick rain and a storm takes the power out in the evening, but a gentle aroma and the assure of him close keeps Ichiko calm. For someone so used to being surrounded by people, due to the natural aura she has, it wouldn’t due to leave her lonely, not like this.

In the flickering light of the candle they’ve set up, she’s able to have a sure gaze at him, and her violet eyes peer, and he feels that the crimson that he sees will pierce him, right down to the core of his aged soul. Her fierce determination, coupled so harmoniously with her gentle demeanor is something he’s become quite fond of. In an instant, she reaches over, carefully tugging a blanket over both of their shoulders.

“You’ll tell me another story, right?"

“Yes, once upon a time, a common man met a princess, deep in the mountains...”

Finishing a bite of her tart, she blinks, before giving a light, but awkward laugh, “But, why was the princess in the mountains?”

Sure, it sounds ridiculous, but many stories like this are, aren’t they? Life doesn’t quite so often sound normal, and the most absurd tales can be the most true... although embellishments and misinformation that ends up passed along with them may skew things. How variable... how long will she recall a moment like this, or will it too be switched around in her head?

The real memories, the false ones, how close to this story they very well could be.

“Because her curiosity chased her up, and the danger ran her further.”

Accepting that answer as it is, she nods, giving way to silence so Hanate can continue. She’s likely comparing the reason, or perhaps equating the princess to herself. Knowing that her question has been answered well enough, he continues to weave the tale of the princess and the commoner, one of a kind maidan and the man that took to arms to defend her.

“‘But hold peace, sir,’ said the princess,” Hanate speaks, “‘For I want as little blood to corrode your blade and stain your hands as possible.’”

“‘M’lady,’ answered the man, ‘for you, no peril will not be fought.’ He stood his ground, holding his quickly-fashioned blade firm.”

“To prove her will, she reached out, placing her hands upon his sword. ‘Then I will be the first to bleed. For the people that have fought for our side, for the souls of those against us, and for you, who valiantly stays.’”

“And within the field of flowers that resembled her so, the man knew he was no match for her, and the gentle smile she adorned. She would take to arms and charge in alone if not for the support and cautioned those provided, and only due to his watch had she not yet snuck away. She decided to shoulder all the sorrow upon herself and take blame for the danger that had been wrought upon the land. Her delicate soul was the reason he took interest, and the drive the fueled him.”

Ichiko’s eyelids grow heavy, thanks to calming tone of his voice, and she leans more against him, her plate already moved, the tarts finished, the amount of food just enough to satisfy her for the time being.

Is this tale true?

Well, who knows what the passage of time has brought to the table of fables?

Once she falls asleep, he quietly stands and moves their plates to the kitchen, returning to her side. Then he put the blanket over her entirely, tucking in the edges to make sure she can stay warm. He doesn’t need it.

However, just in case she wakes, once he takes a seat on the other end of the couch, he rests his coat over his shoulders. She doesn’t want her to fret and will her sleepy words to scold him over being chilly, even if he  _could_ match it. The chill of an unheated home and the conditions outside would be enough to make it so he’d  _have_ to lose the bout, not that he really minds it.

Simple days like this, if only the rest of them can stay so.

\---

He didn’t want her to come back here. He’s tried so, so hard to make it so she didn’t have reason to come back, for her safety, for her future, but seated in this cell, he hears the words he’s always feared.

“Hanamaki Ichiko... She’s one of those... those  _albinos_! She caused a big fuss twelve years ago! She’s one of the guests!”

 _Ichiko... please... go home, before it’s too late... you mustn’t_...

Did she come looking for him? He’s caused her to worry, disappearing like he did. So many parts of this puzzle  _hadn’t_ been intended, entirely, but he knows her. And he... supposes that her coming all the way out here is yet another mark of her personality.

As they became further apart, as the wedge of time pressed between them, he had thought her memories of him would fade. Human minds are so fickle, and they come to believe in what’s in front of them so easily. But, he’s always been content with that.

Maybe it’s because he knows the circumstances of their entwinement their paths have isn’t the most fair for her. In terms of the decades he has spanned, she may be but a breeze, but even if she forgets him for a better happier life, her impression will always remain. She’s left her mark on his soul and...

He wants her to be happy.

But can she be when she’s here, in the town that’s marked her for dead?

Despite his life being as long as a rock’s, he’s still subject to the delicate follies that humans fall victim to. At his core, he, too, is human, even if the years have faded, his eyes meeting such painful sights. Twelve years ago, truly everything changed. The direction of the breeze shifted, bringing the sweet draw to wherever her laughter wafts.

Perhaps it’s because of this, of the flowers, that he makes as much haste as he can. No doubt that yet again the scarlet ones will bloom and pursue her by the matching glow of her eyes.

He makes his escape, finding it surprisingly easy as they all become gradually more and more occupied. Where was this drive before? Why did this this not surface before? He cannot answer. It doesn’t matter, really.

He’ll not interfere, not directly. Not unless she’s threatened. He can’t approach her openly, but if she finds the trail...

There are good people around, but also dangers. The same boy that tried to hurt her in past is back. The same feeling encompasses him - the desire to kill. Ichiko cannot fall into his hands.

Hanate makes it to where she’s staying - and working - easily. It’s a spot frequented by the lost when they awaken anyway. Shuffling and hiding behind a newspaper, he sits on the couch in the lobby, listening to her talk with the others. For the time being, even with the tension, she’s secure, but... how long can it last?

He writes a note, slipping it beneath where he rests. If she cleans here, she’ll find him. If she doesn’t, her path will be different, but his faith in his duty will remain, regardless.

Within the coming commotion, he slips away, not wanting to be addressed, not wanting attention. Close calls are not needed now. His walk away is quick and quiet, and she doesn’t catch him leaving.

“Huh? Where did the man go..?” Ichiko asks, when she finally makes it over to where he has been. A feeling sinks her stomach. She just missed whoever it was — could it have been...  _him_?

Pursing her lips, she searches the crevices as she cleans, discovering a note within them.

“This is...” she reads it over, and her eyes light up, “then..!” She has to go, alone. She can’t drag Hino into this, even if it might be safer to not walk by herself.

Through the tunnel, to where something...  _reunion_ might finally await.

\---

A moment’s panic leads to a teary-eyed embrace.  _Kagura_  chased her, but in the nick of time, he’s there, with her.  _That’s right, Ichiko... I’m here..._

To somewhere safe they climb, although the trek isn’t an even trail. The shrine, familiar, yet hidden away becomes their shelter for the time being. They cannot stay long, but there’s still... a lot of catching up to do, and being in the open would cause far too much trouble, and anxiety for her.

Before exhaustion takes her, Hanate ruffles her hair and, with a pout, Ichiko reaches high and pats his head as well.

“I’m sorry. I made you worry, Ichiko.”

“You really did! What were you thinking, leaving without...”

 _Saying goodbye?_ Perhaps that’s how she meant to finish that sentence, but words like that solidify partings, make the attachment and desperation linger. Things didn’t go as planned, but what matters is that things are heading in a better direction -- hopefully.

“I know,” he says, gently.

A respite, though it’s not long that they have, but the little moments feel so much more significant. So, after she’s up to speed, the air becomes full of her stories of college, of her search for him, of her time here this summer, of all the people she’s encountered.

And as they hide away from the danger that once again knocks at their door, he looks down her, sweeping the loose waves from her face as she doses off for some well-deserved, and needed, rest. There’s so much piling upon her as the treasure box of her true memories spills open; there’s no way it’s easy for her. She’s herself, stubborn, sweet... The distance she’s willing to go, to stay, to spare her friends the peril, until she’s old and grey...

Is he surprised? Or was he prepared to accept any answer she gave him?

Ichiko’s chest rises and falls, and it goes to say that much before that instant, he knew -- that he would listen to whatever made her happy, and do what was in his power to support it. He loses when it comes to her.

Just like when she was younger, the lucking suspense only tangles with the relief in their makeup: They are together once more, reunited under poor circumstances.

\---

Seconds earlier, a pledge to stay with her, even until the days she becomes wrinkled and old comes into play, but it is quickly turned to dust. The rope that has become his time on this Earth has become shorter and shorter, not by the blade, but by the calling, enclosing burns.

He holds her close. One more second. Let him have  _just one more_. Their last promise, as these flames dance about them, is that he will still watch over her, that he’ll always be in her heart. He loves her, truly, he does. She, the one that brought him back down, from his immortal state, to the cusp of humanity, is here, in his arms, and there is eternal confirmation that the curse of the Reverents will no longer plague her.

How sorry he is, that she has to experience this, this fear, this pain. Although shaken she may have been, she never stopped believing, moving forward to the truth. Circles, tell tales of time and time again pave their ways around, but he only hopes that she will be stable and strong in the coming months, years, lifetime.

Just as she’s always been: Bright, independent, but able to rely on others. A gift to the world, truly.

The promises are everlasting. The heat, death may do them part, as fleeting as what life itself has been said to be damned to be. He, the study rock, has come to shatter in the presence of the bloom, allowing her to take root under his protection, and spread every last inch of her petals outwards.

Pitifully short, but meant to be, so the legend foretold.

He feels his body releasing the soul that had been so trapped within; this warm feeling that swells through his mind is one he can akin to fulfillment. That’s right, he can  _finally_ leave this world with no regrets. Hearing the field’s final words, final wish, he realizes that in their connection, they shifted to his call, as if saying that  _“It’s alright_ ,  _this is our wish too_...”

How selfish, Hanate is. But, cycle needed to end.

As their lips part and he sees again her face, stained with tear steams, eyes burning as red as he presumes the fire that’s consuming him is... he notices something. A final gift, perhaps, of gratitude for this old soul of his -- there’s a flash of color, purple hues, just like the flowers, staring at him, adoring him and mourning him at the same time.

She’s beautiful.

This sight becomes his eternity, the feeling far extending past his many years of life in an instant.

She will be fine. No matter the weight, no matter what happens, certainly Ichiko will be able to stand tall. What she has stored with her is the ignition of this fire. It will carry her through the rest of her growth, regardless of where she goes. She is the one light of color in the darkest of worlds.

“Thank you for being in my life, Ichiko.”

\---

Another summer later, and she tucks the corners of her blankets in, smooth out her skirt, and looks to the clock. A promise to someone close to her to meet up before the days lingers too late must be kept, so she doesn’t want to take too long.

_Don’t forget your coat, Ichiko._

“Oh! Right, coat!” Ichiko blinks, remembering that, since the rhythmic pitter on the walls is caused by the light dosing of the sky. So occupied by her thoughts and actions, she almost forgets an important thing, something she’s sure  _he_ will scold (and then tease her about, before giving up his own) if she  _had_ actually neglected it.

Slipping it on, she’s enveloped by a warm sense of deja vu, and a scent of nostalgia hits her nose. Where is it from? Why does it make her feel so heavy, so sad? Just like on their last day in Okunezato, where she was found by Hino, crying in the woods, presumably just so lost that she got nervous, but that hadn’t been a reason to cry, right?

That wasn’t the reason she was crying then, right?

Then, what was it? Is it why she feels like crying now?

And... why is there an unfamiliar jacket on the hanger next to where she got hers from? It’s much too large for her, and she doesn’t think it’s her father’s... but, it has to be, right? It would only fit him properly... out of anyone that uses this house. Wouldn’t he have taken it with him, though?

Shaking her head and slapping her cheeks, she takes a deep breathe, and the scent tickles her nose once more. This time, however, it quells her, tells her things are alright, that she can believe it. She’s safe; she can be happy, and all her worries vanish once again, her quivering lips able to form a smile.

“Maybe I was just reminded about how scared I was then... Thank goodness Hino found me...”

There are other questions that could have crossed her mind, such as when she got this jacket. Was it with her parents? Right, she remembers smiling, holding a warm hand, that... must have been her father. Or was it Hino’s parents, the ones she called Aunt and Uncle way back when?

Pushing it aside, she continues to get ready.

Coat on, shoes on, she sends a text out to say that she’s on her way and places her hand on the doorknob, and opens it.

She says goodbye to no one in particular as she leaves the house, a habit she formed from somewhere she absolutely cannot remember, as if something’s shut tight on memories on something that should not have been in the first place. Sometimes, she feels like she hears an answer back from the empty home, on rainy days just like this, where the sweet smells waft.

Every last moment of his was hers to own, and even if her mind doesn’t recall it, her heart does. Her heart will always, always remember the pain of immense sadness, so encapsulating that part of her likely died that day, that day she said goodbye to the man who had did all he could to keep her protected.

_Come back safe._

And she will, once again. When she does, she’ll greet the empty house with the voice he had so looked forward to hearing during the days he stay there. Knowing, knowing that everything he managed to do, in the heat of the final moments, allowing her voice to steadily say those words again and again... allowed him for scatter away without a single regret lingering, just as it should be.


End file.
